


An Abundance of Apples

by Liaree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breakup, Drapple (Harry Potter), Fluff and Angst, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, M/M, Past Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, if you want you can squint for dramione but it's not inherent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liaree/pseuds/Liaree
Summary: Some people expect ice cream after a breakup. Draco Malfoy expects apples.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Apple, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	An Abundance of Apples

_I’m coming to your flat whether you want me to or not. What am I bringing?_  
H.G.

_Comfort food._  
D.M.

*

Draco stumbled into his kitchen to find Hermione pulling twenty-four pounds of Granny Smith apples out of a coin purse.

“Granger, do you really think I’m going to be able to eat twenty four pounds of apples?” She dug back into the minuscule bag, ingredients piling onto his counters. Draco could only be relieved that the contents of her infinite bag of horrors weren’t _only_ apples. But an infinite bag was still an infinite bag, and her rummaging didn’t seem to be approaching an end.

“Well, let’s see, Draco. Do you have any other food in this flat?” 

He didn’t respond, and instead dropped to a chair with the drama of his entire ancestral line. Head tilted back, fingers massaging his forehead, legs splayed out -- he moped in a brazen fashion that his father would have snarled at him for. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, chose to ignore him. 

“Do you plan on ordering takeout for every meal? Do you plan, in fact, on eating at all, you absolute dolt?” Two bags of sugar joined a heft of flour.

Draco laid his head down on the cool granite of the kitchen bar, refusing again to answer her question. 

“Or, perhaps, you plan on simply _withering away_ into dust as though -- just because you and Harry broke up -- you now have no reason to continue through these harrowing days, and wish instead to martyr yourself to the cause of a broken heart.” 

Brutal, cold, callous witch.

“If you’re so aware of my plans, I don’t see why you insist on ruining them,” Draco growled against the cool marble. A _swish_ came from the direction of Hermione’s purse right before Draco felt a large piece of fabric get tossed onto his head. 

“Put on the apron, bitch, we’re going baking.” 

“You must stop badly quoting that movie thing, Granger.” 

A moment passed before a single bright green apple bobbed in front of his eyes. He grinned and reached for it, grateful that the witch was finally showing him the kind compassion he deserved -- until the damned thing flew out of his grasp. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, “I’ll _help_.”

*

“Why are you here anyway, Granger?” Draco asked, not looking up from the mixing bowl. In unspoken agreement, the two of them had begun baking the muggle way. It soothed Draco to bake with his hands and his head, and he knew that Granger felt similarly.

“What do you mean?” He blinked and looked over at her, watching her hands slice apples with precise, methodical movements. Her brow hadnfurrowed slightly. Brightest witch of her age, yet she didn’t understand his question.

“Why are you _here_ , Granger?” She shook her head and glared down at her apples, confused.

“Because you just broke up with your boyfriend, and generally friends go to comfort their friends in distress. Or… I’m sorry, do Slytherins _not_ comfort their friends? Am I being culturally insensitive to your snake-like sensibilities?” Draco flicked a pinch of flour at her for the teasing, earning a gentle laugh. Something softened in his heart, just a tad.

“Why are you here and not with Ha -- “ his throat closed around the name and he swallowed it, the dull ache in his chest turning sharp. The witch moved closer to him and placed her hand atop his shoulder. 

“Ron is with Harry. I’m with you.”

*

There was a soothing quality to hearing Hermione rant when it was in his favor.

“Well, he’s a bloody idiot who is incapable of listening to another person without pushing all his angst and trauma onto them. _Honestly_ , he needs a proper mind healer,” Hermione continued, mumbling, “and probably some blood pressure medication, he eats too much salt for an undead creature.” 

Draco tried to play off his snort as a dignified scoff, and chose to believe he succeeded regardless of Granger’s side-eye. 

“I’m quite certain you’re supposed to be saying almost exactly that about _me_ , Granger. Well, perhaps asides from the undead thing. Regardless of my pallor, I don’t believe I have ever, in fact, died.” 

Granger shook her spatula at him, scolding. “I told you once, I will tell you twice, but Cerce help me I am not telling you a third time, Draco Malfoy -- _Ronald_ will tell Harry that you are the angsty fool incapable of listening to others, and _I_ will tell you that Harry is. But of course,” she continued holding her spatula in the air, batter dripping down its edges, as though in triumph, “I am, as always, right.” 

Draco sighed, wondering if maybe she wasn't actually right this time. The end of their relationship hadn’t been just Harry’s fault, that wasn’t how it worked. Maybe Draco hadn’t listened well enough either. Granger poked his side, but it didn’t jar him from his sullen stare into his mixing bowl.

“I’m serious, Draco. No one is perfect, certainly not you, but you actually tried -- are trying.” 

She exhaled softly, resting her hip against the counter. “Harry, you know, he was the _'Savior'_ after all, and he’s never realized that he needs just as much help, distance, and processing as anyone else. You did realize that. You’ve gone to the mind healers, you’ve found a place in the world that’s not just about war. Harry… well, he shouldn’t have ever become an Auror. You know that more than anyone.” 

He did. That’s why they broke up, after all. Draco couldn’t stay in the past, and Harry couldn’t stay in the present. It was all about another mystery, another person to save. Harry’s need to keep being the Boy Who Lived. Seven years, and he still hadn’t let himself be just a man, building his own life.

“I just couldn’t, Granger,” Draco began, feeling a building pressure behind his eyes, “I couldn’t keep being second fiddle to,” he raised his hand and gestured meaningfully around them, “the entire world.”

*

“Granger,” he muttered as he pushed the tins into the oven, “I can’t eat 24 pounds of apples worth of pies.”

“Correct! That is too much pie. Which is why now we will be making apple _sauce_. Followed by some delectable apple turnovers. But! We cannot forget the protein, Draco. No, it would be truly terrible to forget the _protein_. So, our final endeavor shall be,” she began to drum on the table, much to Draco’s chagrin, “Pork and Apple Stew! Lovely.” 

Draco felt his jaw dropping as horror washed over him. “That’s...you’re going to be here for hours.”

Her shirt rode past her stomach as she stretched her arms as far as she could. Draco winced when she cracked her knuckles. He scowled when she chuckled.

“Draco, darling. Your sense of time needs some re-calibration. I’m going to be here for _days_.”

*

She was singing songs she only knew half the words to, and she was singing them off-key. He was sure she was tormenting her. This was his punishment for breaking up with The Boy Who Lived -- eternal damnation via apples and atrocious musicality. 

“Why am I friends with you, Granger?” he moaned. A grin grew wide on her face, nearly maniacal. 

“Because you are in eternal and desperate need for intellectual stimulation, and I’m a sucker for a redemption arc.”

He stopped rolling dough as she started up a new song. 

_”You’ve got a friend in me!”_

Desperate need.

_”You’ve got a friend in me!”_

Redemption.

_”You’ve got a -- something, so~~omething, there areeeee wor~~rds in me.”_

“Was that all I was to him,” he whispered, “a redemption arc?”

The mutilation of a song cut abruptly and Hermione let out a scoff. “I can’t speak for my idiot of a best friend, but if that’s all you were to him I’ll punch him in the face myself. And I punch _much_ harder than when I was thirteen.” 

Draco paused before responding, still staring down at the counter.

“So,” he began, raising his gaze to hers, lifting an eyebrow as though cavalier, “I’m more than a redemption arc to you, then, hm, Granger?” 

A huff escaped her and she tittered a little too much like Molly Weasley for comfort. “I know you’re trying to joke, you prick, but yes, _obviously_. Draco,” she sighed and tilted her head back, taking a breath. Draco saw her eyes close for a moment and wondered if she weren’t truly exasperated with him. Wondered when she would stop tolerating his melancholy and his fears. 

“Your potions brought my parents back to me,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “You let me sleep in the Manor’s library when Ron and I broke up. I know _you_ are the mastermind behind Harry’s pranks on George’s birthday every year -- the ones to help him feel less alone without Fred. And yes, you and Harry may not work out, and it’s dreadful, truly, but…. You made him smile, Draco. In a way I’d never seen him smile before. So yes,” she finished, opening her eyes and turning her head to meet his, “you are more, much more, than a redemption arc to me.” 

Draco blinked, mind whirring. But he had no words, and she had no more. Soon, the sounds of knives on cutting boards and rolling pins on parchment paper filled the air again.

Neither of them said anything for a while after that.

*

It wasn’t days. Just one day, one night.

One day of cooking and talking and silence and laughter and only a few moments where Draco thought he might break the absolute fuck down.

One night of eating stew and pie with ice cream, staying up too late talking about politics and the latest Vivian Agawal novels and whether sending international mail was more efficient via muggle or wizarding methods.

Just one night where Granger made a ridiculous pillow fort while Draco transfigured apple cores into tiny pillows to throw at her. 

Just one night when she pretended not to hold him as he pretended not to cry to sleep. 

Just one morning when he woke up to her handing him a coffee and a turnover in their crowded fort. 

Just one hug goodbye, a little longer and a little tighter than usual, with just the one whispered warning that it had been far too many years for Draco to think he was getting rid of all of them just because he was no longer fucking the Boy Who Couldn’t Pull His Head Out of His Ass.

*

There was a note stuck to his freezer door handle.

_Next week is Ron’s turn. Molly told me to make sure you eat a vegetable before then. If you don’t I’ll complain to Harry about how you **never** eat anything but **apples** and I simply cannot **fathom** why. _

Curious, he opened the freezer. And there, in front of the pies and turnovers, sat 10 perfectly too-large portions of casseroles. 

A terrible, heaving sigh came from him and he gently hit his head against the freezer. He couldn’t even _break up_ with the Savior of the Wizarding World without being indebted to these people.

“Fucking Gryffindors,” he muttered into the frigid air, voice breaking.

He hadn’t expected it. Not really. Hadn’t expected that when they chose, it wouldn’t be them abandoning him for Harry. Hadn’t expected that they would choose both of them. 

Hadn’t expected to lose only one of the people who had taught him how to love.

When he finally let his tears fall, they fell over pork and apple stew.

**Author's Note:**

> I was initially inspired by a drapple joke tiktok to write a "Draco breaks up with Harry for apples" crack fic, and instead it became a cute fic about the power of friendship. I don't hate it.
> 
> I'm debating writing a choose your own adventure set of one chapter followups -- one drarry, one dramione, and one draco/harry/hermione. hmmmmmmmm.


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